Matchmaker, Matchmaker…

I’m addicted to “Confessions of a Matchmaker” on BRAVO. It’s about Patty Novak, a matchmaker in Buffalo, who acts more like a hardass therapist than a matchmaker. Every week she parades through two nutty victims, each looking for love and having trouble finding it for very apparent reasons. It’s addictive. (Set your Tivo.)

Over the years I’ve dabbled a little in matchmaking. Well, once, I guess. And they got married, so there you go.

While I was at the farm over Labor Day, it dawned on me that a super cute 4-H agent and a guy I grew up with would be a delightful pair. (Of course I made the mistake of completely forgetting to introduce them to each other until tonight — subjecting them to a whole three weeks of suspense after sending word to the two of them through the church and 4-H grapevines.)

Always a bridesmaid, and always in style. 🙂

Which leads me to one of the more interesting aspects of my week. Mid-summer, Jenn told me that a friend of a friend had met a guy through a high-profile matchmaking service here in the city. And they’d really hit it off. She said she was going to submit her profile online, so I thought, “Why not?”

This is not your typical dating service. This is serious business for dudes who are “making an investment” in love — to the tune of thousands of dollars. The firm only represents 230 guys across the U.S.

At any rate, I submitted my info. A couple weeks later I got a call saying I might be a potential match for one of their clients. And it’s taken a month to find a time slot on my calendar. That was Thursday afternoon. We had a nice chat for about an hour. I’m certain they think I’m insane.

I have a sneaking suspicion that the guy they have in mind is in his early 40s, which just sounds elderly. (Sorry, I still think I’m 12. And don’t tell me you senior citizens think you’re any older than 35!) But I told them if they thought it was a good match, then I’m open to anything.